


Not too good

by deletingpoint



Series: Supernatural codas [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), M/M, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deletingpoint/pseuds/deletingpoint





	

 

„Hey, how’re you holding up?” Sam’s voice rings through Dean’s messed up thoughts. He shrugs and rubs his face with both hands, leaning to the kitchen counter. How is he even supposed to answer that? It’s not like Cas hasn’t died before. It’s not like it doesn’t hurt more each time. It’s not like he isn’t way too obvious.

He glances back at Sam: “I don’t know, just, it’s, it’s like leviathans all over again,” he lets out a cough, “so, not good I guess?” he ends with another quick glance.

“Yeah, it was a rough day,” Sam is deliberately slow, yawning and stretching his arms, still observing him. To hell with his scrutiny, Dean’s not gonna elaborate, it’s already been a bad enough day as it is without having to dig up old wounds. Silence drags and drags and drags.

“Okay then, I think I’ll get some sleep,” finally a hand is clapping Dean on the shoulder before there’s movement by the kitchen door. “Cas, hey,” still only Sam’s voice echoing in the room filled with smells of food, “mom gone to bed?”

“Yes. She did seem a bit … jumpy is the word? And tired, of course.” Dean doesn’t raise his head to look at Cas, the voice is enough to bring back all the images of him being almost dead. Again. And then alive. Again. Saying … saying too good words to make it all even worse.

“I’m gonna call it a night too, sorry, guys,” Sam doesn’t sound sorry at all. He does sound exhausted, Dean will give him that. “I’m glad you didn’t die, man,” Dean raises his eyes at that. So simple, huh? Sam is pulling Cas into a hug, his long limbs almost covering the little guy. He kind of wants to smile at that. “Thank you, Sam,” a muffled voice, Castiel’s hands grabbing onto Sam for a moment. And then it’s over. Sam lets go of Cas, nods for goodnight and gone he is.

 

Suddenly Dean feels how very tired he is and he sinks on the floor, back against the counter, legs stretching out. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. Cas is still in the room, this always warm presence and Dean smiles a little when Cas sits right next to him, pressed against his left side. It is such a relief that Dean can feel his eyes prickling even when they’re closed. He loves touching Cas. But that’s the thing with touching, it’s never enough. Even now, pressed together, he still wants to touch him more. To know it’s real, to know they’re both real, to feel that warmth that makes him want to cry and smile at the same time. To never lose it again.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” that makes him pull his eyes open, only to find himself looking in Castiel’s. For what? “For what, Cas? None of this was your fault.”

Cas lowers his head and brings it back up again, his lips briefly lifting a corner of his mouth. “For making you feel this pain.”

Dean swallows a lump at that and tries to answer. “It’s …” he doesn’t even know what to say. It’s alright? It really isn’t. It has been too many times. “It’s not really your doing,” he finally manages.

“Still. I’m sorry.” He means it. And somehow it’s good to know.

“Yeah, okay.” He leans fully on Cas, brushing his fingers against his hand, lifting it up and playing with it. He already held it once today, but that was a strong grip, now he’s just lingering. And he wants to say those too good words. To say them back or whatever. It would be a perfect moment. It doesn’t have to mean anything, other people say it. All the time, almost throwing those words away. But they’re too good to be real. He wants it, needs it to be real. This moment, it has to be real.

“Dean?” there’s a question in Castiel’s voice.

“Just, just something,” he stumbles out and then finds his head crashing on Cas’ lap. Cas freezes for a moment, then his fingers move through Dean’s hair, caressing them. It’s almost too good. Dean closes his eyes again. He should go to bed, he should sleep, he should, just … “Just.. would you, uh, would you watch over me tonight?” he finally manages to force out, his voice barely a whisper.

There’s a moment of silence, fingers still. It’s too good, isn’t it?

“Of course,” Castiel answers, his low voice so very very quiet. Still real. Still here. It’s good.

 

 


End file.
